


If It Kills Me

by lookupkate



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Confused John, Confused Mycroft, Daddy Kink, Drunk John, Frottage, Horny John, I am starting to really have a thing for Mycroft, M/M, Minor age play, Reichenbach Feels, Romance, Rutting, feeeeeeeeeeeeels, horny mycroft, unexpected johncroft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookupkate/pseuds/lookupkate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected romance between two broken men, John Hamish Watson and Mycroft Bloody Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> John and Mycroft meet a few months after Sherlock's suicide. Things don't go according to plan.

_I drove home in the California dusk_  
 _I could feel the alcohol inside of me hum_  
 _Pictured the look on my stepfather's face_  
 _Ready for the bad things to come_  
  
 _I down-shifted as I pulled into the driveway_  
 _The motor screaming out, stuck in second gear_  
 _The scene ends badly, as you might imagine_  
 _In a cavalcade of anger and fear_  
 _There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year_  
  
 _I am going to make it through this year_  
 _If it kills me_  
 _I am going to make it through this year_  
 _If it kills me_

_This Year by The Mountain Goats_

The tyres of the cab hit puddles as they drove through the streets of London. The water creating abstract paintings in the air as dusk arrived none too soon. John sank into the seat as the light faded outside. He was on a mission. It wasn't official, and oh, weren't those always the best kind? The blood rushed through his veins fiery with alcohol, and the world seemed to swerve off towards the right as the taxi turned. He hadn't planned out what he was going to say when he arrived at Mycroft's, just that it would be more than a bit not good. He had spent the last few hours drinking and getting up the nerve to assault this man. No, not a man, less than that. Mycroft was a coward. He had sent John to apologize to his brother for him before the fall. He had expected him to be the messenger. Coward. When all was said and done John knew that Sherlock killed himself because of Moriarty. He held Mycroft accountable for his brothers death, and now, he would begin the arduous process of redemption by John's hand. The redemption would be bloody or not at all. It had been decided.

The car pulled to the side of the road, and the sudden stop shook John from his thoughts. He took out his wallet, paid the cabbie and walked out into the now rain filled night. As he made his way up the sidewalk the door he was headed for opened. There in all his arrogant glory was one Mycroft Holmes. The sight of this man was unexpected, and John stood in the rain for a moment not moving. "Are you going to come in, or have you decided not to face me?", Mycroft said with a sneer. The look on his face brought John back to the plan. 

"You really are a bastard, you know that?" John replied, pushing his way past and shaking off the wet. 

"So we are going to start with name calling are we? It's a bit tedious don't you think?" Mycroft replied, moving to pick up his glass of brandy from the nearby mantlepiece. John grabbed the drink out of Mycroft's hand and took a swig. The rich liquid burned his throat as it went down. John began pacing as Mycroft looked on a bit amused.

"Out with it John, I don't have all night." Mycroft grumbled as he began to pour himself another two fingers of dark alcohol.

"Yes, you do have all night! And I will take as bloody long as I want. You may have a schedule, but I have nothing! Nothing! Not anymore. And that happens to be your fault!" John spit at Mycroft, quickly invading his personal space and backing him up against a wall. "I watched you sell your brother out for your job and I did nothing. Maybe I'm just as guilty....I should have made you keep Sherlock safe. I should have forced you to find Moriarty. You bastard!" And with that John took a swing at Mycroft. Mycroft had been expecting the hit, but was put off guard by John's tears. John's fist connected with Mycroft's cheek and pain exploded through his skull.

Mycroft hit the floor just as John began to really cry, tears rolling down his face and staining his light blue button up shirt. When Mycroft fell John began to kick him, all of the pain of losing Sherlock turning his anger into a blinding rage. As John kicked, a large man entered the room and took him into a sort of bear hug from behind. John struggled in his grip, shaking and letting out little sounds that were like that of an injured animal. Slowly his struggling stopped, and when the man let him go he slumped to the floor, body heaving. Mycroft rose and brushed off unseen dirt from his suit. "Thank you Roger, that will be all." He said, waving the large man away and removing a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. Once the man was gone Mycroft strode over to John as he lie crumbled on the plush carpet. "Feel better?" Mycroft asked in a hushed voice. 

"No." John croaked. 

"Nor do I." Mycroft said as he knelt to hand John the piece of cloth.

John stood without taking the handkerchief, and pushed Mycroft hard. Mycroft moved closer, and when he began to strike him again he took John and forcefully held him against his body. "None of that now." Mycroft said as John struggled and cried. "You've got to stop." John finally ceased his movements and lumped into Mycroft's arms. He continued to cry, his body shaking with grief. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You'll never know how sorry I am." Mycroft said into John's hair, holding him tight. 

"I loved him you know, he was supposed to be mine." John finally said.

"I know. I know." Mycroft repeated, holding John tight. There was a sudden change in the room. Both men could feel it in the air. John looked up at Mycroft and said, 

"I hate you.", before taking his lips in a bruising kiss. The kiss took Mycroft by surprise, but he slowly melted into it.

When they finally broke the kiss, both out of breath, Mycroft looked deeply into John's eyes. "Why? Why did you do that?" He asked. 

"Because you're an insufferable ass, just like him. And I guess I miss him so much I'm losing my mind." John said, removing himself from Mycroft's embrace. "I have to go." John said as he strode out the door and back into the night.

"Don't." Mycroft said, too quiet to be heard.


	2. Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes home, shaken from his encounter with Mycroft. Mrs. H tries to ease his mind.

I hold on  
For dear life, I hold on 

And my arms get sore  
And my palms start to sweat  
And the tears roll down my face  
'Till my cheeks are hot and red and soaking wet

Lion's teeth

The Mountain Goats

 

 

He knew this feeling. This was shock. As John strode out into the rain he felt his stomach turning over and over. What was done could not be undone. The streetlights seemed to blink in sympathy as he passed, but perhaps that was the alcohol. The rain beat down on his head while he headed to Baker street. His clothes soaked up the wet and he shivered. The walk lasted thirty minutes, longer than he would have thought, and when he reached home he was thoroughly drenched. John walked into the entry hall and shook like a dog. Mrs. Hudson came out at that exact time, and took in his sodden frame. "Dear me, what have you done John?" She exclaimed, surprised to see him in such bad shape. John simply stood dazed, teeth chattering. Mrs. Hudson opened her door and ushered him in, running into the kitchen and turning on the kettle. "I'll get you some fresh clothes dear, you hop in the shower now." She said as she headed for the door.

John slowly walked down the hall and entered the bathroom. He removed his wet clothes and started the shower. Once it was almost hot enough to scald his skin he stepped in. He let the water run down his body, lost in thought. He was ashamed of his actions, and his stomach still ached. He began to cry again and slid down to the basin when his legs gave out. He wept deeply, not caring what sounds he made. Mrs. H entered the flat with a stack of dry clothes and stilled in the hall. This was not the first time she had heard John crying. It took her by surprise every time. John was always such a strong young man, but Sherlock's death had all but broken his will.

John finally stood and started to clean his now red body, scrubbing hard at the invisible filth he felt covering his skin. Damn this feeling, damn his weakness and damn Mycroft for being there when Sherlock wasn't. His crying had stopped for the time being, though it always seemed to linger around the corner, waiting to take over. There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in." John said, embarrassed by the pain so evident in his voice. Mrs. Hudson came in and placed the dry clothes on the top of the hamper and collected the cold wet ones.

"I'll just toss these clothes in the washer." She said as she left.

"Thank you." John whispered a little too late. He got out of the shower and redressed, avoiding his reflection in the fogged over mirror. He really didn't want to look himself in the face.

Both John and Mrs. Hudson entered the kitchen as the kettle began to whistle. John took a seat at the small table, and Mrs. H. poured the hot water into two white cups. She added a splash of milk to John's and handed it to him, taking the chance to look into his eyes. "You don't have to tell me what happened," She said, "But it might help to get it off your chest." John sipped the tea and burnt his tongue. He set the cup down infront of him and took a deep breath. A sad joyless laugh came out.

"I went over to Mycroft's with the intention of setting him straight about some things....and we ended up kissing." John said, avoiding the woman's eyes. She took a shocked breath in and steadied herself. 

"Well, I suppose that was a sight to see. I did a bit of angry kissing in my day, sometimes it's for the best. How did Mycroft respond?" She asked. John laughed again.

"He didn't hit me, so I guess it could have been worse. I really don't know what he thinks at this point. I'm not even completely sure why I did it." He said, taking another small sip of tea. "Every once in a while our bodies do things we can't explain. I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's late, you should get some rest, dear."

John smiled at the woman who felt so much like a mother to him and rose from his seat. "I think you are right. Thank you Mrs. Hudson." John said, heading out the door.

"Any time John." She replied as he left. John walked up the stairs to the flat he and Sherlock used to share. Just as he was making it into bed his mobile chimed.

I have made arrangements for lunch tomorrow. We need to talk, John. A car will pick you up at one.  
MH

John sighed and crawled under the covers. What had he done. "I'm sorry Sher." He whispered to the empty room as he fell into sleep.


	3. Throwing Off Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft thinks on the night's events.

I don't know why I'm so persuaded  
That if I think things through  
Long enough and hard enough  
I'll somehow get to you

But then you came in and we locked eyes  
You kicked the ashtray over as we came toward each other  
Stubbed my cigarette out against the west wall  
Quickly lit another

Look at that, would you look at that?  
We're throwing off sparks

Oceanographer's Choice  
The Mountain Goats

 

Mycroft made his way over to the Chesterfield in the corner of the room and took a seat. His head was reeling. He opened the drawer on the side table and took out the false bottom, retrieving his hidden cigarettes. He took the silver lighter he kept for guests and lit the cigarette as it shook slightly in his hand. Looking at the burning tip he took the first drag, his eyes almost closing when it came to his lips. Tonight had been an entirely unique event. He let out the smoke and touched his lips. It had been a very long time since he had been kissed. A long time indeed. He sucked on the cigarette and let the smoke linger in his lungs, feeling the nicotine make his body tingle. He thought about John kissing him and felt a chill go down his spine and make it's way unsurprisingly to his cock. This was not good.

His whole body felt strange. He hadn't even been touched like that for years. Mycroft was still a young man when he decided on country over love. He knew that coming out would stunt his political career. His choice was aided by the fact that he would have trouble finding anyone who was willing to come second fiddle to her majesty. But oh, he had missed another man's touch. Right then he had a two thoughts. One, John had no problem coming in second fiddle to Sherlock's work. Two, John had kept his homosexual feelings under wraps while being madly in love with his brother. These were dangerous thoughts. The motive behind them was greedy at best and sentimental at worst. He stood, taking one last drag and putting out the cigarette before leaving the room.

Mycroft needed a bath, a long bath. He walked down the hallway to the bathroom and opened the door. He sat on the side of the tub and turned on the water. As the water heated he went and looked at himself in the mirror. He saw more wrinkles than he liked, but still considered himself mildly handsome. He knew he was nothing compared to his stunning late brother, but that didn't dissuade him. After all, Sherlock was more handsome than at least ninety-five percent of the population. Sherlock had always been beautiful. He was a gorgeous baby with a radiant smile, and everyone who saw him wanted to hold him. Mycroft had been jealous of Sherlock's looks, it was true, but he had never thought his brother the better catch. Sherlock's actions out weighed his beauty time and time again.

Mycroft sank into the bath and turned his thoughts to John. Was he really interested in Mycroft, or was it all a big mistake? Did he find Mycroft physically attractive? Mycroft found John quite pleasing to the eye. John was a good looking man with a body as strong as his will. His appearance was only boosted by his personality. Tonight wasn't the first time he had been aroused by John's reaction to him. Mycroft had enjoyed the kiss, and the taste of John's mouth. He felt himself stiffening and took his warm cock in his hand. Well look at that, he thought, looks like I _am ___in a bit of trouble after all.

Mycroft thought of John's strong arms as he struggled in his grip. He began to stroke his cock, pulling slowly and running his thumb over the slick head. Yes, this would do. He thought of John's kiss, and the way his lips might feel around Mycroft's prick. Yes. He picked up the pace, stroking himself in earnest. He felt his arousal coming to a head and had one last though. He wondered if John would struggle as much if he were in handcuffs. That did it, he squeezed his cock and pumped fast as his orgasm took over. He saw John's eyes as his mind blanked out. He would have to see more of him, that was for sure... 


	4. Don't Slow Down At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Mycroft meet the next day for lunch. Things go better than planned.

Some things you do just to see  
How bad they'll make you feel  
Sometimes you try to freeze time  
'Til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels

But I am just a broken machine  
And I do things that I don't really mean

Long black night, morning frost  
I'm still here, but all is lost

Speed up to the precipice  
And then slam on the brakes  
Some people crash two or three times  
And then learn from their mistakes

But we are the ones who don't slow down at all  
And there's nobody there to catch us when we fall

Cry For Judas by The Mountain Goats

 

John looked himself over in the mirror and straightened his collar. He slowly wrapped the tie around his neck and made a half Windsor knot. 'What the hell am I doing dressing up for someone I don't even like?' he thought. The bags under his eyes gave away the quality, or lack thereof, of his sleep the night before. He had tossed and turned so much in the middle of the night that he awoke in a kind of brutal cocoon of sheets. He looked at the clock on the wall as it clicked one. Time to head out. He hesitated at the front door before putting on his coat. He wasn't sure he should be going at all. He opened the door and solemnly stepped down the stairs. When he emerged from 221b he had braced himself for the encounter. What he had not prepared for was the sight of Mycroft holding the car door open for him with a predatory glint in his eyes.

A chill ran down John's spine at the sight. He now understood why this man had a high place in government. He immediately felt underdressed and on edge. As he got into the car he felt as if Mycroft might sink his teeth right into his throat. Mycroft slid in after him and closed the door, making John feel a bit cornered. "Good afternoon Doctor." Mycroft purred in a perfectly Sherlockian tone. John felt his stomach jump. He cleared his throat in what he knew was a clear giveaway of his thoughts. After living with Sherlock, John knew he was very bad at hiding his own tells. 

"Mycroft." He said, looking deliberately up at the man next to him. Mycroft cocked his head in a reptilian mannor and smiled slightly.

The car drove on as the two men sat looking at each other. John, finally getting up his nerve, asked what he had been waiting to ask. "What do you want Mycroft?" Mycroft looked shaken for one tenth of a second, but slid into uncaring fast enough to make John question his sight. Mycroft looked out the window before he spoke. 

"I wanted to explain myself. I want you to know that I never meant any of this to happen. I don't want you to think me a monster." John was surprised by the answer. He hadn't expected to be spoken to like his opinion mattered. What he really believed would happen was a Holmesian scolding. 

"Why do you care what I think of you?" John asked. 

"Oh. I see, you don't think I care about you. I understand that you don't consider me a friend. I would like to change your mind. You were a great friend to my brother, and I want to show you how much that means to me."

John sat staring at the back of Mycroft's head. John would have kept staring at the back of Mycroft's head for the rest of eternity, or at least he thought so, but the car pulled to a stop. Mycroft opened the car door and stepped out, not looking back to see if John would follow. John was used to this by now. The restaurant was exceedingly posh and John was immediately relieved that he had worn a tie. They moved to the back of the dining room and were ushered into an adjoining room with only one table. Mycroft took a seat, and as he ordered a drink John looked for his escape route. John didn't really need an escape route, but the soldier in him kept insisting that this meeting was still a bit dangerous. John looked up as the maitre d and ordered a water.

As the man left the room Mycroft gazed over at John and continued the conversation started in the car. "I know that with the way things ended it looked like I valued my job over my brother. I want to convince you that this was not ever the truth. I never wanted to put Sherlock in any harm that he couldn't handle." John frowned at this. 

"How about not putting him in any harm at all? How was that not an option? " John asked angrily. 

"You knew Sherlock better than anyone else, you know that he would have never wanted me to keep him completely safe. He craved the danger, and anything other than small amounts of 'risk management' would have seemed like coddling to him. My brother never stood for coddling. Unless it was from you." Mycroft said, taking the drink being placed in front of him and sipping slowly. 

"Now wait! I never coddled Sherlock." John replied. Mycroft chuckled and gave what was probably the first genuine smile John had seen out of the man. 

"You got him to eat and sleep on a semi-regular schedule, if that wasn't coddling then I don't know what is. Even Mummy couldn't get that much out of him. You really are quite unique you know." Mycroft said, a slight blush appearing around his collar. John looked up from his menu with a look of confusion. 

"No. No, I'm really not. I'm ordinary, I know that." He said quietly. 

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Mycroft scoffed.

"I don't know, maybe comments about the stupidity of the soldier. Maybe it was being compared to a mind like Sherlock's for years. I know I'm not special." John sighed like he had just told a long held painful secret. The maitre d returned and both men ordered what sounded like delicious meals. John leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

"You seem to have misunderstood." Mycroft said. "I wasn't suggesting you weren't unique. I was just taking note of your military...shall we say tendencies. As for my brother's intelligence, it's a futile act to compare yourself. Sherlock may have called you stupid to your face, he does that to most people, but he valued your opinion above all others. That says a lot about how very different you are, John." Mycroft crooned sweetly. It was a bit off-putting to see Mycroft being sweet, but it seemed genuine. John calmed down for the first time that day and started to eat the steaming food that had been put in front of him. It was as delicious as it had sounded on the menu, if not more so. Both men seemed happy to have a break from the conversation. The room remained silent for the next half hour.

When both of them had finished their meals Mycroft drank the rest of his cocktail and ordered another, looking across the table at John pointedly. "I guess one drink won't hurt. I'll have a brandy." John said. Once his drink had arrived they had been talking about Mycroft's respect for soldiers long enough that John had started to believe it. "So when you spoke of the stupidity of bravery you were, what? Not intending it as an insult?" John said laughing. "That's a bit Sherlock of you, you know?" He continued.

"We are cut from the same cloth. I'm sorry if you were insulted, but I admit that was a bit the point at the time. I was fairly sure you were going to take the money to spy on him. I was happy for once to be proven wrong." Mycroft said. And there it was again, that almost innocent, truly genuine, seemingly brand new smile.

John could not say for sure that he wasn't just a bit charmed. The proverbial clock struck twelve. Mycroft told John that he had to be back at work, and the men stood to exit. This time as Mycroft led he _did ___look back to make sure John was following. John noticed the difference. As they got into the car he admitted to himself that he may need to reevaluate Mycroft...


	5. Kiss Me With Your Mouth Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes out with Mycroft for drinks.

The reception's gotten fuzzy  
The delicate balance has shifted  
Put on your gloves and your black pumps  
Let's pretend the fog has lifted

Now you see me  
Now you don't  
Now you say you love me  
Pretty soon you won't

If we get our full three-score and ten  
We won't pass this way again  
So kiss me with your mouth open  
Turn the tires toward the street and stay sweet

Diluadid by The Mountain Goats

 

The drive home from lunch was the opposite of the one there. With both men in good moods, and a bit of alcohol calming John's nerves the conversation was comfortable. They chatted about trivial things, things neither of them would remember if asked later. When they finally arrived back at 221b John looked at Mycroft with a touch of indecision. Mycroft smiled easily and then looked at his own hands.

"Guess this is my stop." John said, perhaps hoping to be prevented from leaving the car just yet.

"Yes, would seem so." Mycroft replied, continuing, "John,"

John looked up hopefully, "Yeah?"

"Would you like to get a drink with me this friday?" Mycroft asked without looking up. John could feel the warmth beginning to reach his cheeks. He smiled.

"Yeah, cheers." John got out of the car and Mycroft finally looked up at him.

"I'll have Roger pick you up at seven." He said.

John made it up to the flat with what he had to admit (if only to himself) was a bounce in his step.

The next few days seemed to drag on forever. John was happy to have something to look forward to. It had been such a long time since he had gone out to drinks with anyone that he felt quite nervous. He chuckled to himself friday evening, noting how like a teenage girl he was acting. He decided to wear a pair of charcoal slacks and a black button up shirt with no tie.

The car showed up for John right on time, and he was a bit dissapointed to find only 'Anthea' inside.

"Evening." John said politely.

Mycroft's assistant simply looked up at him with what he considered to be a pitying smile. With the idea of small talk properly squashed John looked out the window and remained silent. The buildings flew by, and John began to day dream. In the last few years the only thing on his unconcious was Sherlock, and today was no different. He was pulled painfully from his own mind when the car came to a stop.

As he began to exit the car 'Anthea' spoke. "He's a very private man, you know. He doesn't let people in." She said, looking up from her ever present phone for once. "Tread carefully, Doctor Watson." She added.

John felt a touch of chill go down his spine as he stepped onto the kerb. There was no doubt in his mind that they wouldn't find his body if he buggered this up. He brushed off his slacks and walked up to the club. He was escourted in without another word and found himslef seated across from a very relaxed Mycroft. He was without his blazer, and cut a very fit frame in a white button up, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and charcoal waistcoat. He looked up and smiled around a cigar as John sat down.

"Ah, John, so good to see you....you look a bit out of sorts. Did Anthea give you the 'don't hurt my boss unless you want to be found in twenty or so seperate trash bins? How sweet of her." He said, almost giggling.

John, finally relaxing, found this funny as well, and soon the two men were giggling like he and Sherlock used to. He rubbed an errant tear from his eye and attempted to get ahold of himself. "Never thought of you as the type to giggle, Mycroft." He said finally.

"Haven't had the chance, or reason to in a long time, Doctor. I can see why my brother appreciated your presence. You never cease to impress, John." Mycroft said, peering sideways into the hearth.

John felt himself blushing as a man in a crisp suit approached. He looked at Mycroft, and spoke. "Anything for your guest, sir?"

"Brandy." Mycroft replied, smiling at John.

John had never seen the man smile like that before, and suddenly felt like he could stare at that smile forever. The edges of his lips curled down a bit, the way a Holmes mans' did when truly happy. It reminded him of Sherlock, and his stomach turned a bit.

"You're thinking of my bother." Mycroft said.

"Guilty." John replied.

"I hope you don't mind if I take that as a compliment." Mycroft said, just as John's drink arrived on a beautiful silver platter.

"You should." John said, taking a sip, and letting the sweet burn of the drink replace the pain of loss.

"I hadn't had the chance to look at being compared to Sherlock in a positive light before, but I have seen how you used to look at him." Mycroft said, glancing back into the fire.

John cleared his throat and promised himself that that was the last time tonight he would think of Mycroft as an extension of Sherlock. Instead, he spoke. "Thanks for inviting me out, it's been a long time since I've gotten out of the flat on a good note. Nobody wants to hang out with the bloke that was in love with the dead guy." He said. He nearly choked on his drink when he realized what he had said. "Shit, I didn't mean to....Shit." He said.

Mycroft smiled sadly at John. "It wasn't much of a secret, John." He said gently.

John sighed and shook his head. "Someone could have at least told me. Although I guess they did try. I was just too stupid to see it." He said, taking another sip of his drink and looking into the fire.

"Some things are hard to deal with. I still haven't publicly come out. I have a job in government holding me back. You had the army." Mycroft said.

"Yeah. I suppose I was the only one in the room that was uncomfortable with calling myself bi. I've still not said anything to most people about it, but I guess you kind of figured it out when I kissed you. I'm sorry about that." John said smiling at his glass.

"You really shouldn't apologize for that, John. It was....pleasant to say the least." Mycroft returned, chuckling lightly.

John could feel a blush start to move up his face. He finished his drink and held up the glass to signal for another. "So was it hard, when you realized you were gay?" John asked.

Mycroft looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Are you certain that's the phrase you would like to use?" He retorted.

Both men started giggling like teenagers.

"Did you just make a penis joke?" John demanded.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Mycroft said, smiling giddily. "But, to answer your question, it was difficult. Difficult, but freeing. It was a tough decision to not let on to others at the time, but when you have a job like mine it's easy to abstain from a social life. It was easier when I was starting out to just decide that the job was more important than...my heart. I don't think my colleagues would have taken it well back then. I don't think they would care now."

"So you don't...have a boyfriend." John asked sheepishly.

"And neither do you." Mycroft quietly.

John smiled as he received his fresh drink. The two men sat in companionable silence for some time before Mycroft spoke again.

"John. I'm not the kind of man to sit idly by and watch when I see something I want." Mycroft purred.

"And do you? See something you might...want." John asked, his mouth going dry.

"Very much, John. Very much." He answered, looking John in the eyes.

John sat twirling his glass for a while before responding. "Feeling's mutual." He said.

At that, Mycroft stood and picked up his umbrella.

"John, would you like to come back to mine?" He asked.

John smiled up at him and said, "Yeah, I think I would."


	6. I Wouldn't Mind At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft takes John home.

Billie Holiday  
But Beautiful  
Johnny burke / james van heusen

Love is funny or it's sad  
Or it's quit or it's mad  
It's a good thing or it's bad

But beautiful  
Beautiful to take a chance and if you fall, you fall  
And i'm thinking i wouldn't mind at all  
Love is tearful or it's gay  
It's a problem or it's a play  
It's heartache either way

But beautiful  
And i'm thinking if you were mine  
I'd never let you go  
And that would be  
But beautiful  
I know  
Love is beautifull  
I know

The black sedan was waiting for them at the kerb when they exited the club. Mycroft held the door open for John and slid in behind him. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before the car made it to Mycroft's apartment. Once inside Mycroft poured John a drink and gave it to him before starting a fire. Mycroft poured himself two fingers of whiskey and walked slowly to John's side.

"I don't have a social life you know. I don't DO social well." Mycroft said, looking into his drink.

"That makes two of us, I suppose." John replied with a chuckle.

Mycroft went to the record player by the fireplace and put on some music. John recognized it as ['Coal Oil Blues' THE MEMPHIS JUG BAND](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5big9xw0dw4). John swayed a bit to the music. 

"I'm fine in grand social situations. I know how to dance and make small talk with heads of state. I know which fork to use. I just never really have one on one time with anyone I....with anyone I actually give a damn about. The closest I've come to a friend in the past ten years is Anthea, and I'm her boss." Mycroft said, looking then into the fire place. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I guess I just find you rather easy to talk to." He continued, glancing at John with a sad smile.

"You don't have to worry about what you say to me. I'm the same way myself. It was easy to have mates in the army, but outside of that I've always been a sort of loner. Your brother was my only real friend. I never went anywhere with anyone else. I never had pub night. I guess people mistake my bedside manor for social skills. Outside of being a doctor I'm kind of shit with people. People like me, yeah, but it never goes any further than being comfortable around me. No one ever seeks me out." John replied.

"I did." Mycroft said.

"Yes, yes you did." John said with a smile.

They stood smiling at each other for a few moments before John cleared his throat and spoke again.

"You, um, said you can dance. I used to know my way around a dance floor. You wouldn't by any chance want to try me out, would you?" John asked sheepishly, setting down his drink on the mantle.

Mycroft smiled and walked back to the record player. He set down his drink and pulled out a new album. The sounds of fingers tickling at a piano filled the large room. John smiled as he recognized the song [Just A Glance At Love by Thelonious Monk](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GAPiFlWeBw). Mycroft slid across the room towards John, his eyes dark and hungry. He slipped his arm around John's waist and pulled the shorter man close against his body. John could smell his expensive cologne, and touch of cinnamon and something darker he couldn't put his finger on.

Mycroft swayed back and forth with John as the music grew. He began to hum along and John felt his heart swell with the song. They paused for a second when the song ended and looked at each other. The first few notes of the next song started and Mycroft got a gleam in his eye. He stepped back and began to dance a bit faster as Brilliant Corners began. John stood back and watched as this seemingly straight laced government man became a vivid creature moving to the beat. He had never seen Mycroft move so loosely. Mycroft's eyes slid closed as the horn solo began. John watched him in awe. 

Mycroft's moves became erratic when Max began his drum solo. John somehow found his way into a chair to watch the man disappear into the music. When the song stopped abruptly Mycroft opened his eyes. He looked practically blissed out. He grinned and went to gather his drink and turn the music down a bit. As he turned back around to face John he brushed an auburn curl from his forehead and John finally broke. 

"Get over here." He said, pupils blown, and patted at his lap. 

"Is that an order, Captain?" Mycroft purred, moving closer. 

John simply growled, and Mycroft was straddling him. John tore open the buttons on his shirt and kissed at his pale neck, the long expanse growing as Mycroft leaned his head back. John licked greedily at the skin as Mycroft removed his own shirt and began to work on the buttons of John's. John bit down on the taller man's neck and Mycroft ground down into him. John's head fell back as their cock's rubbed together through too much fabric. 

"Christ." John hissed. 

Mycroft chuckled and bent down to nibble at the doctor's ear as he undid his trousers. John shivered below him and let out little keening noises. Mycroft sucked hard on his neck just where it met his shoulder. There would be a mark tomorrow, and realizing this almost sent John over the edge. 

"Bed. We. Need to find a bed." John hissed out. 

Mycroft stood and removed John's trousers, shoes and socks before pulling him from his sitting position and leading him down a dim hallway. When they reached the bedroom Mycroft pushed John down forcefully onto the bed. He then removed John's pants and the rest of his own clothes and got back into position above the doctor. John moaned as their cocks slid together slickly. Mycroft took his mouth by force and slid his tongue in to wrestle with John's. John moaned again as Mycroft began to move in small thrusting motions against him. 

"Jesus My. You're going to be the death of me." He said breathlessly. 

Mycroft chuckled darkly above him again before returning his mouth to John's neck and biting down. 

"Fucking Christ, My." John yelped, his cock jumping as he did. 

"My dear doctor, you do become quite the little heretic underneath me. I have to admit that I like it. You're a very. Bad. Boy." He responded, rutting roughly against John with the last few words. 

"Holy mother of God!" John moaned. 

Mycroft looked into John's eyes and licked his palm, the snaked his hand between them and began to stroke both their cocks with his agile fingers. John was pushed beyond actual words and shook below Mycroft making odd sounds and thoroughly entertaining the taller man. By this point both men were so hard that the stroking was almost like scratching an itch, replacing the pain of their throbbing erections with a pleasure that was equally relieving. John let his head fall back again as he felt himself getting close to orgasm. 

Mycroft read it in John's movements and sped up his strokes. He leaned down again and licked a stripe up John's neck. He hovered over his ear and breathed heavily into it before whispering to the shaking man. "Oh, doctor. Come for me." He rubbed his thumb up over the heads of their cocks. He came just as John did, thrusting into his own fist and soaking them with semen. John cried out when he came and then melted into the bed. 

The two of them stayed there as one, panting heavily into each others skin for a few moments before Mycroft rose and went to get a wet flannel to clean them off. John lay dazed, covered in his own mess and ran his fingers through their mingling come as he waited. Mycroft came back into the dark room and wiped both men down before flopping down next to John, who nuzzled up against his warm body. Mycroft reached behind himself and pulled the duvet over them. He kissed the top of John's head and fell asleep to the distant sounds of Thelonious Monk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter a bit personally. This is how I would want to be courted. Give me whiskey, jazz and a posh git like Mycroft (with a wild side) and I'll marry the bastard. Hope you all enjoy.


	7. Good Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after sex, aaaaaahhhh yeah!!!!

The sound of running water woke John the next morning. He stretched and rolled over, intending to go back to sleep. He awoke again when the bed dipped beside him.

"I have to leave for a few hours. Go back to sleep now." Mycroft whispered into his ear.

John turned, realizing he wasn't in his own bed for the first time and opened his eyes. he watched as a perfectly dressed Mycroft closed the bedroom door behind himself. The night came back to him and he smiled, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. He got up and relieved himself in what had to be the most ornate bathroom he had ever entered (having not used the one at Buckingham).As he made his way back to the bed he looked at the bedside clock and was shocked to see that the time was 4:00. Bugger that, he thought, going back to sleep.

Approximately three hours later John felt the bed dip again and was wrapped in long arms and held against Mycroft's chest. He sighed happily and sunk into the taller man's embrace. Mycroft kissed him on the top of his head and nuzzled into his hair. John giggled.

"You're a bit of a snuggler, aren't you?" John said happily.

"I have not, and will never use that word......I acquiesce none the less." He replied, pulling John closer to his body and kissing at his neck. He untangled his arms and ran his hands down John's chest. John shivered as his hands ran over John's nipples. Mycroft grazed his teeth over his neck. When he reached John's cock it was already half hard. He took him in hand and stroked once from root to tip. John shuddered.

"Well, good morning doctor." Mycroft hissed into John's ear.

"Jesus." John hissed in return.

"Back to taking our lord's name in vain, I see. I believe I'll have to punish you for that, John." Mycroft said happily. "Let's see, how to punish you in the most thorough manner."

"Fuck." John responded.

"As you wish." Mycroft said, letting go of John's now impossibly hard cock and flipping the man on to his back.

John's eyes went wide. Mycroft grinned wickedly down at him and started kissing on John's neck. He then peeled himself away and reached into the bedside table removing a small bottle of lube. John's breath quickened and Mycroft looked down at him for the ok. When John nodded he slipped a now slick finger between John's legs and began rubbing it between his cheeks. He found John's hole and rubbed the finger around it in slow but strong circles. John bucked below him, trying to find friction between their bodies.

"Ah, none of that Doctor Watson. This wouldn't be punishment of I let you rub your cock against me, no would it. Hold still......or I might have to restrain you." Mycroft crooned.

John moaned at this and moved his own hands towards his groin. Mycroft slapped them away and shook his finger at him.

"Johnny boy, don't you dare try my resolve." Mycroft said.

John looked into his eyes and smiled, once again trying to take his cock in his hands.

Mycroft moved so quickly that John was thoroughly impressed when he found himself pressed face down into the mattress with his hands held behind his back. He chuckled deeply and attempted to struggle free. He heard a scraping sound from behind him and moaned as he felt cold metal being closed around his wrists.

"I'm going to make this quick due to your shoulder, and you are going to let me, or I swear John, I will leave you alone on this bed." Mycroft said smiling.

He returned his newly slick fingers to the task of opening John. He pushed in the first finger slowly as John exhaled. Once completely in he crooked the finger and pulled out to add another.

"You're so tight Johnny. Such a tight boy for me." Mycroft whispered, allowing John to rutt a bit against the sheets.

He continued opening John, and by the third long finger had found his prostate. John moaned and squirmed beneath him. 

"That's my boy, you like to be punished, don't you?" Mycroft asked. When no answer came he slapped John's ass. "Speak up, son, I don't have all day."

"Yyyess, Sir." John yelped.

"Good boy." Mycroft said, kissing John's shoulder blade. He then carefully removed the hand cuffs and turned John. John looked up at him hungrily, his eyes dark with desire. He let Mycroft reposition him and handcuff his right wrist to the bedpost. He reached down and gave himself one stroke as Mycroft got a second pair of what he could swear were police issue handcuffs from the drawer. Mycroft slapped his hand away and cuffed his second wrist to the other post.

Mycroft loomed over him and gave a fake scowl. "You've been a bad boy this whole week. Such a little tease. It's a wonder I put up with you. What do you have to say for yourself, Watson?" He asked in his best schoolmaster voice.

John twisted a bit underneath him. "I'm...I'm sorry Sir. Won't happen again." John replied.

"And what do you want from me, Watson?" Mycroft asked, looking stern.

"Your cock, Sir. I want your cock." John replied, shivering.

Mycroft stroked his cock as he looked down at John. "And you'll be good for me?" He asked.

John groaned and nodded feverishly. Mycroft smiled and reached into the bedside drawer once again. He returned with a condom and put it on his aching prick. He then slicked himself up and bent over John. He put one hand on John's hip, and guided his cock slowly into John with the other. Once the head of his cock was in he stilled.

"Damnit John, you are so hot and tight for me." He huffed, unable to look up. John whined and Mycroft pushed in a bit.

John wriggled under him. "More, Sir." He begged.

"Yes." Mycroft hissed as he began to push further into John. Once he was in the smaller man, up to the hilt, he began to move. Driving into John slowly, he began to moan. Soon he was fucking John in earnest, quick thrusts pushing the air from John's lungs.

"Oh, yes. That's my good boy." Mycroft crooned. "I'm almost there dear. Won't last much longer."

John quaked underneath him as he fucked him harder. Just as Mycroft felt his orgasm closing in he took John's prick in hand and spoke again. "Do you want to come for me, boy? Do you want to come with my cock up your arse?"

John shook and looked up at Mycroft. "Yes Sir, please let me come, Sir." He replied.

Mycroft stroked his cock swiftly, and felt John tightening around his cock. "Come. Come for me like a good boy." He hissed, rubbing his thumb over the leaking tip of John's cock. The shorter man came in his hand with a grunt, and the tightening around Mycroft's cock forced him to come nearly simultaneously. He slumped down onto John's heaving chest, out of breath. John's breathing began to slow, but before he could speak Mycroft was up and getting a warm flannel to clean him off.

"Such a good boy." Mycroft said, moving the warm cloth over John's belly. He removed the handcuffs and put them away, laying down next to John and taking him in his arms. He kissed the top of John's head again. "I think I could get used to having such a willing boy around." He said.

John, relaxed and sighed happily. "How did you.." He asked.

"Know that you wanted to call me sir?" He asked, finishing John's question. "Don't be slow, John. You were in the army. You want to be dominated, that much is clear even in the way that you walk. The age difference kink was just a guess, but a good one I take it."

"God, yes." John replied.

"Then I guess we'll have to see how far this goes. Now go back to bed for a while, and then I'll make you an omelet." Mycroft said. "Good boy." He whispered as John melted deeper against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of age difference kink. Me likey.


	8. Lunch Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a small chapter about John's work day.

After sleeping for a bit more and eating one of the best omelets made by man John had to go to work. He got out of the shower to find his clothes from the night before cleaned and hung up in Mycroft's bedroom. He smiled at the efficiency of Mycroft's staff and was glad no one snuck into the bathroom to steal his pants while he showered. Mycroft was sitting in the livingroom looking at a black dossier when he emerged from the bedroom.

"I have to be off, got a full schedule at the surgery today. I guess I'll.....be seeing you around." John said, trying to fend off a blush.

"Now, that won't do, doctor. I will see you here tonight for dinner at seven sharp. Andrew will pick you up at six forty-five." Mycroft replied, not looking up from the paperwork, but proffering an insulated coffee mug.

John chuckled and took it. "It doesn't seem I have a say in that plan at all."

Mycroft looked up an raised an eyebrow. "That's because it was an order, Captain. Now, be on your way." Mycroft finished, looking back down and taking a sip of his own tea.

John laughed and walked out the door to find Andrew waiting with the door of a black sedan open. He nodded at him as John entered the car. He looked at his mobile on the way. He just sat and looked at Mycroft's phone number. Fifteen. He was a fifteen year old girl at this point. God, what a shame.

Once he walked into the clinic Sarah stopped him to go over his plans for the work day. She stopped about two sentences in.

"Something's changed.....John, are you smitten?" She asked, looking confused at first and then breaking into a broad grin.

John choked on his tea and tried not to look like a deer in headlights. It didn't work. He looked like he'd swallowed his own tongue. Sarah giggled and walked away. The nurses would for sure hear about this. He sighed and walked to his desk.

\-----

At lunch time John finally had a chance to leave his exam room, and bumped into a nurses aide on the way out. She looked up at him, blushing and walked away giggling. John grumbled and made his way to the cafeteria. He wasn't quite sure if he imagined every woman in the building smiling knowingly at him or not. 

Once at the cafeteria he got in line behind the other doctors and got ready to pick between two very bad meal choices. Once he made it up to the front of the line the worker behind the display smiled at him.

"This is for you, Doctor Watson." She said, holding out a brown paper bag.

He thanked her and looked around in time to see Andrew leaving the building. He sat down at the closest table and opened the bag to find a few napkins, silverware, a small salad and a container with the most mouth watering shepherds pie he had ever seen. There was no note. He removed the items and opened his mobile.

I FEEL AS THOUGH MY MOTHER'S BROUGHT ME LUNCH. I WOULD COMPLAIN, BUT IT LOOKS ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS. JW

I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT ENJOY SOMETHING BESIDES WHAT THE CAFETERIA HAD TO OFFER. MH

DO YOU DO THIS FOR ALL YOUR DATES? JW

I DON'T HAVE DATES. I DO HOWEVER, TAKE VERY GOOD CARE OF WHAT'S MINE. MH

OH, SO I'M YOURS, AM I? JW

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO BE, DEAR DOCTOR. MH

John laughed and shook his head.

ONE OF MY COWORKERS INSINUATED THAT I HAVE A BIT OF A CRUSH. SO THE ANSWER IS YES. JW

WAS IT SARAH? MH

HOW DID YOU KNOW? ARE YOU HAVING ME FOLLOWED? JW

NOT AS OF YET. I'M NOT SURPRISED THAT SHE NOTICED, SHERLOCK NEVER LIKED HER. MH

HE NEVER LIKED ANY OF MY GIRLFRIENDS JW

AH, BUT HE FELT THREATENED BY SARAH. HE NEVER ATTENDED ANY OF YOUR DATES WITH OTHER WOMEN, DID HE? MH

JESUS. I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT. JW

FINISH YOUR LUNCH, DOCTOR. I WILL SEE YOU TONIGHT MH

John put down his mobile and tucked into his food. He remembered a conversation he had with Sherlock where he had been asked if girlfriends 'feed you up'. He shook the memory away and paid attention to his meal. It was delicious, and was done fast. He cleaned up and made his way back to his office, not missing the smile on the lunch lady's face. He would never live this down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't have time to write another full chapter before work, but this came to me in the shower, hope you don't mind a bit of fluff


	9. Falling For Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Mycroft have different views of their budding relationship.

Don't Change Your Plans by Ben Folds Five

Sometimes I get the feeling  
That I won't be on this planet for very long  
I really like it here  
I'm quite attached to it; I hope I'm wrong

All I really want to say  
You're the reason I want to stay  
I loved you before I met you  
And I met you just in time  
Because there was nothing left

I sat here on my suitcase  
In our empty new apartment  
'til the sun went down  
And I walked back down the stairs  
With all my bags and drove away  
You must be freaking out

All I know is I got to be  
Where my heart says I ought to be  
It often makes no sense, in fact  
I never understand these things I feel

Don't change your plans for me  
I won't move to LA  
The leaves are falling back east  
That's where I'm going to stay

You have made me smile again  
In fact I might be sore from it  
It's been awhile  
I know we've been together  
Many times before  
I'll see you on the other side

Don't change your plans for me  
I won't move to LA  
The leaves are falling back east  
That's where I'm going to stay

All I really want to say  
You're the reason I want to stay  
But destiny is calling  
And I told them when my time is up  
I'm out of here

All I know is I got to be  
Where my heart says I ought to be  
It often makes no sense, in fact  
I never understand these things I feel

I love you, good bye  
I love you, good bye

John had a smile on his face for the rest of the day. It didn't even slip when young Margaret Jared vomited on his shirt. He actually had to stop himself from chuckling. He sometimes had days where he couldn't remember why he loved this work. Today was not one of them. John, you see, was born a doctor. Sure, he went to school and got his degree like everyone else, but his first instinct was to heal. A lot of soldiers assumed that it took training for him to be willing to run onto the battlefield, bullets screaming by, to get a fallen soldier. They were wrong, John would have risked his life no matter what. He was simply built that way.

Today was one of the few days in his new life where he had something waiting for him after work. Someone who saw his bravery and didn't think him stupid for it (even if they had alluded to it in the beginning). He had someone who thought nothing of giving themselves up for the common good. It wasn't odd to keep the cell phone on durring dinner. They were both important men, and would always answer for their chosen master, be it medicine or country. John still missed the army. He loved taking care of patients with the flu, like Margaret, but it left something to be desired. He missed the days when what he did meant life or death.

John was still thinking of the thrill of having your hands covered in blood when Sarah entered the room. She smiled slightly and cleared her throat. [John looked up at her](http://static.tumblr.com/c833f94630fce29ff3ceac3321e47ea4/7jbo2m4/Rl7mnogfq/tumblr_static_sudden_stare.gif), suddenly shaken from his thoughts.

"Doctor Watson, I haven't seen you so vacant in a long while. Who ever she is, she must be something." She said, grinning. "Go home, make yourself up and go see her." She finished, patting him on the shoulder and walking out the door.

As John got his things together he could have sworn that he heard her talking outside the room. "Seems he's got someone looking after him. It's about time." She said.

He smiled at that. He wasn't the sort of man to ever put himself first, and it felt good to be forced into being taken care of for once. He wouldn't have it any other way.

\-----

Mycroft sat at his desk for a few moments, lost in thought before he registered 'Anthea's' presence in front of him. Dear lord, he was thinking of John again. [He held his forehead briefly before looking at his assistant](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7tny5DR0J1r7oamy.gif).

"I'm sorry my dear, I seem to have lost my train of thought." He said.

She frowned a bit before handing him a yellow dossier and speaking without looking up. "Don't let him hurt you."

She was gone before he could respond. Damnit. This was why he had avoided a relationship, this problem exactly. Not only did he feel weak, but he apparently looked weak to outside observers as well. Sentiment was getting in the way of his work. He would have to be stronger. He wouldn't let feelings muck up his work. He breathed through his nose before opening the new file. Work, he was all about the work. 

\-----

John ignored the looks he got on the tube on the way home. He'd forgotten by now that he had vomit on his shirt. He was miles away. He was worried about dinner that evening. It was worse than buying a present for someone who has everything. He was going to attempt to impress the man who KNOWS everything. Much more difficult. John had never had problems impressing his dates before, but he had never dated someone quite like Mycroft Holmes. Every trick up his sleeve was useless on the man. Try to be mysterious? He can read your day on the sleeve of your shirt. Have an impressive job? He runs the country. Dress nicely? His suits cost more than a sedan. Try to be clever? Ha, good one, Watson.

Once home John changed his clothes and took a quick shower to rid himself of the smell of disinfectant. He picked out a dark pair of slacks and a white shirt to play up his now fading tan, just about the only thing he had to show off at this point. He was about to decide whether to bring a coat and tie when his mobile chimed.

I'LL BE MAKING YOU DINNER TONIGHT, NO NEED FOR A TIE. MH

IT IS A BIT CREEPY WHEN YOU READ MY MIND FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN, YOU KNOW JW

COME NOW, DON'T TRY TO HIDE THE FACT THAT YOU LIKE IT. MH

John chuckled and closed his dresser. He walked to the kitchen and put on the kettle, aiming to calm himself with a cuppa before venturing out into the unknown of a night with Mycroft. He pulled out his laptop while the water warmed and opened his blog. It had been ninety days since his last post. He wrote a quick paragraph about his day, but deleted it when the kettle sounded.

\-----

It was almost time for John to arrive, and Mycroft was pacing in front of his stand up mirror in his bedroom. He unbuttoned his jacket, then buttoned it again. Should he remove it and try to look casual? Should he leave it on until part way through the night so John thought he was the reason for Mycroft to unwind? He hastily removed the jacket. Better. He rolled up his sleeves. Better still. John. John, John, John, John. What did John need him to be? He thought of John's current life, alone at Baker Street. He thought of John's response to being brought lunch. He thought of the millisecond response when he called John a bad boy. Ah. That was it, John needed someone to take care of him. Perhaps put him in his place, gently. John tried so hard in his day to day life to be the hero, the aggressor and the parent. He would need an escape. If Mycroft gave him that escape, maybe he would stay. JESUS! DON'T THINK LIKE THAT!

Mycroft shook himself and began to make his apartment into a welcoming home. He started some jazz and lit a few candles. Then he abruptly put them out. He needed to be nurturing, not romantic. He started to saute´ some vegetables and boiled some water for the pilaf. He opened a bottle of cab sav and poured himself a glass. The kitchen filled with steam and he sipped at his wine. He was cutting up fresh ginger when the front door opened. He turned to see John enter, a small smile on his face.

"Smells wonderful." John said, entering the kitchen and looking around happily. "Always thought you'd be the kind to let the staff cook everything for you. Have to say I'm a bit impressed."

"I know my way around a kitchen. Wine?" Mycroft responded, pouring a glass for John.

"Thanks." John said, taking the glass and smelling with his eyes closed. He took a sip and smiled.

Mycroft turned back to the cutting board and moved the rice pilaf to the boiling water. He took the squash, carrots and tomatoes off the stove and put the whole pan in the oven. He then went to the fridge and pulled out the makings for a small salad. He chopped the lettuce and whipped up a salad dressing with olive oil, lemon juice and spices. He pulled out two small plates and made up the salads, passing one and a fork to John. John took it and took a bite.

Mycroft sat down at the kitchen counter and had some salad as well. "Hope you don't mind a relaxed night." He said. "I just felt like unwinding a bit. It's good to have you here, John." Mycroft said, eyeing his wine glass.

If John began to notice that Mycroft looked anywhere but at him when he was nervous, he said nothing.

"You don't know how much I appreciate it, it's been a long while since someone besides Mrs. H cooked for me." John replied, taking another sip of his wine.

Mycroft hesitated before saying. "You deserve to be taken care of, John."

John blushed and returned to his plate as Mycroft began the chinoise sauce. He quickly added together heavy whipping cream, a bit of soy sauce and some ginger to a small pan. He stirred with intent. He had already won John over, he was able to relax for the first time that day. He set the sauce aside and took off the pilaf, serving it onto two large white plates. He then removed the veggies from the oven and served them on top. The last touch was to cut a loaf of french bread and pour a heavy dose of chinoise on top of the whole thing. It looked and smelled delicious.

Mycroft sat them at the table and poured both of them another glass of wine. "So, how was your day, looking to the needs of the populace?" Mycroft asked, sitting down and taking up his fork.

John smiled and told him about his day, leaving out the part where he had been vomited on. He must have had more wine than he had though because he giggled at the thought that he would 'omit the vomit'. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to share with the rest of the class, Mr. Watson?" He said quickly.

John laughed. "Nothing." He said.

Mycroft smiled. "You are quite adorable when you laugh, John." He remarked.

John blushed and they finished their dinner. They stood together at the sink and John washed while Mycroft dried and put the plates away. Once the kitchen was clean Mycroft grabbed a small brown box along with his wine and went to settle into the couch by the fire. John walked with him and was surprised when Mycroft opened the box to show six white powder dusted squares. His eyes lit up.

"Turkish delights?" John asked.

Mycroft smiled and picked out a reddish one before offering the box to John. John smelled the box and then picked out a yellow. He put the sweet in his mouth and smiled like a kid on Christmas. Mycroft smiled and him and licked his thumb to remove a bit of powdered sugar from John's chin. John blushed.

"Yes." Mycroft said.

"Yes what?" John asked.

"You were going to inquire as to if I ever thought of trying to sell Sherlock for a box of these. The answer is yes." He replied grinning.

John chuckled and remembered the first time he saw The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. He had loved the movie from the start. He hummed happily and rested himself against Mycroft. Mycroft pulled his arm out from between them and hugged the doctor to his body. He passed John an orange sweet and kissed him on the top of his head. John put the treat in his mouth and closed his eyes, letting himself melt even more into Mycroft's strong form.

After a few minutes Mycroft kissed John on the head again and squeezed him a bit. John had been nodding off. "John, let's get you to bed." Mycroft whispered. John hummed and allowed himself to be moved to the bedroom.

Mycroft sat him on the bed and began to remove John's clothes as the shorter man looked on sleepily. Once he was in just his pants Mycroft pushed him back into the pillows and removed his own clothes. John rolled to his side and let Mycroft spoon against his back. Mycroft wrapped his arms around the doctor and pressed soft kisses up and down his neck. John sighed and nuzzled back against Mycroft. Mycroft's kisses got more powerful and john wriggled against him as the man bit down on his neck. John rubbed his arse up against Mycroft's hardening cock and groaned. He whined when Mycroft moved away.

"No need to be upset love, I'll be right back." Mycroft whispered.

Mycroft was back in bed in a second after closing the bedroom door. He lay back down next to John and opened the side table drawer. John hissed at the combination of the sound of the drawer and Mycroft's body pressed back against him. John ground his ass back against Mycroft's cock and rubbed his palm against his growing erection. Mycroft slid his pants off, and then John's.

"That's my good boy." He whispered to John. "I'm going to take care of you tonight, I'll do all the work."

John hissed as a warm wet finger slipped between his cheeks. Mycroft pushed into him slowly, making sure to kiss John's shoulder to sooth him as he did. The second finger followed quickly and opened him up that bit more. Once the third finger had pushed John all the way open he was canting back into the intrusion and moaning loudly. Mycroft removed his fingers and put on a condom. He held John still by his shoulder and pushed his cock into his waiting body. John groaned and pushed back until Mycroft was seated fully.

"That's it, love. You want my cock, don't you?" Mycroft asked.

"Yyyess, Sir." John replied, taking hold of his cock again.

"Ah, yes." Mycroft said as he bagan to move. He thrust his cock into John hard and heard the man gasp for air. "Good boy, take my cock!" He grunted.

Mycroft knew he was close to orgasm, he could feel the heat building in his belly. He thrust harder, holding John's hip and fucking him deeply. He felt John quiver around him and came before he could say anything. He felt John come just as he stopped shaking. They lay in silence, breathing against each other for a few long minutes.

Mycroft then got out of bed to grab a warm flannel. Once he had cleaned John up he sank back into bed and stroked John's arm as he fell asleep. He lay there thinking as John's breathing evened out. It felt good. He felt a part of himself awakening. He wanted to have someone to come home to. He wanted that someone to be John. This was by no means good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a nod to the comment somanyhands made about someone finally taking care of John.


	10. Turning The Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was their first fight, but John wouldn't let that come between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T WORRY, DEAR READERS, THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING!

Arms by Christina Perri

I never thought that you  
Would be the one to hold my heart  
But you came around  
And you knocked me off the ground from the start

You put your arms around me  
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go  
You put your arms around me and I'm home

How many times will you let me  
Change my mind and turn around?  
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life  
Or if I'll drown

I hope that you see right through my walls  
I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling  
I'll never let our love get so close  
You put your arms around me and I'm home

The world is coming down on me  
And I can't find a reason to be loved  
I never wanna leave you  
But I can't make you bleed if I'm alone

You put your arms around me  
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go...

I hope that you see right through my walls  
I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling  
I'll never let our love get so close...  
You put your arms around me and I'm home...

I try my best to never let you in  
To see the truth  
And I've never opened up  
I've never truly loved till you

Put your arms around me  
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go...

I hope that you see right through my walls  
I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling  
I'll never let our love get so close...  
You put your arms around me and I'm home...  
You put your arms around me and I'm home.

It was their first real fight as a couple. They had been dating for a month, and every time John tried to get closer to Mycroft emotionally he was pushed away. Mycroft seemed to be keeping him at arms length, but why? 

"I feel like you're not letting me in. Every time we make progress you seem to close down on me even more. You say you want me. You say you want to take care of me. Why can"t you see that I want to take care of you too?" John asked, fighting to hold back tears.

"I'm so glad you feel that we're making PROGRESS, John. It's such a comfort to know that breaking me down is beneficial for you. You want to know the truth? You make me weak. Your love makes me weak. I care about you too bloody much to turn back now, so I guess I'm assigned to a life of soppy feelings and anxiety. I'm so glad this is playing out just how you want it to!" Mycroft replied, voice growing louder with each word.

"I make you weak? You're kidding, right? Who is here for you when you have a bad day? Who is here for you when you are convinced that you are a bad person? Who is here for you when you are shaking in the night from regret about your work? I am, you git! I don't think I make you weak, I think you've just never shown someone your vulnerability before. It's very Holmesian of you to pretend your weakness comes from me, but it's just not true. You are human, and feeling weak is part of the deal. I think you're just scared. I'm scared too, okay? I'm scared every day that you will find someone smarter than me and leave. I'm scared that you will be killed for your job, and not be able to die in my arms. I'm scared of how much I care about you, and how easily you could break me, but that's what love is. Love is showing someone your weaknesses and trusting them not to ruin you. I promise I won't ruin you. I promise." John had spoken the whole time without taking a breath, and felt wounded as he took air into his lungs.

Mycroft stood in front of John, silent. For once his biting comments were gone. He looked absolutely broken. He took a shallow breath and began to tremble more.

"You can't promise that. You can't know that you won't ruin me. You can't. You...just...can't." Mycroft replied, breathing erratically.

"Oh, love." John whispered, taking the taller man in his arms and holding his body tightly. Mycroft shook harder, and John started to stroke his back.

"We'll make it through this." John whispered, kissing Mycroft's shoulder.

They stood like that in the livingroom for a while before Mycroft slowly pulled away.

"You have to go -" He said, and John cut him off with a growl.

"No! I'm not leaving. You think that -" He hissed.

Mycroft was barely able to silence him with a finger to his lips, so he spoke loudly.

"You have to go and pack your things. I cannot go on like this without you here with me. I cannot sleep another night without you by my side. Get your hideous chair and your out of date medical journals and your wonderfully understated jumpers and come back to me." He crooned, "that's an order."

John broke into a broad smile and nearly tackled Mycroft with an enthusiastic, if sloppy, kiss. He turned and left, light on his feet and happier than he had been in a long time.

\-----

When John arrived back at the apartment with the first of his things he found Mycroft cleaning out half of the armoire and whistling. He was actually whistling. John put down his things and slipped his arms around Mycroft to hug him from behind. Mycroft sighed.

"Leave it up to you to bring my walls down. The most unassuming man I've ever met. Your strength hidden so carefully behind kindness. You beautiful man." Mycroft said, sinking back into John's warm embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a short chapter for you guys. I'd like to thank ravenscar for getting me into the mood for love, and my coworker for being such a horrible bitch that I quit my volunteer job and now have near unlimited time to write.


	11. Welcome To The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets Mycroft's parents.

Mycroft took John home to meet the parents later that month. John rested his head against the window as they pulled up to the huge mansion. It loomed heavily over the landscape, giving the appearance of an angry God. Mycroft put the car in park and got out as two men came to retrieve their things. John exited the car and stretched while looking around. A large German Shepherd came bounding out the front door to greet them and Mycroft ruffled it's fur. John looked up to find an imposingly tall gaunt man walking down the steps. 

Mycroft stood almost at attention. "Father." He said. 

The man looked Mycroft over, frowning the whole time and nodded brusquely. He then turned to John, giving him the same unsatisfied look and stepping forward to shake his hand. John took his hand and shook strongly. 

"Mr Holmes, Sir. Very nice to meet you." John lied. 

"I've heard a lot about you. You're shorter than I thought you'd be." The man said. 

John, not sure what to say just nodded. Mr Holmes went back into the house and John turned to stare at Mycroft. Mycroft raised his eyebrows but said nothing. John followed him into the house to find a sweet woman waiting to take their coats. 

"You must be John. So nice to meet you. The whole manor's been abuzz with talk about you. And oh, aren't you handsome! Look at those thighs, bet you played football in the army!" She said. 

John laughed. "When we got the time, ma'am." 

"None of that ma'am talk. I'll get you boys tea. Wonderful to see you, Mycroft." She said, scurrying away. 

John laughed again and turned to Mycroft. "Not sure about your da, but your mum's lovely!" 

"That's not mummy, that's Mrs Anton, our maid." Mycroft said grimly. 

"Oh, I'd thought...sorry." John said confused. 

"Let me take you to our room." Mycroft said, leading John down one of the long halls. 

When they made it in Mycroft closed and bolted the door. Their luggage was already on the bed, and a fire was lit. Mycroft smiled sadly at John and took his hand, leading him to sit by the fireplace. 

"I think this was a mistake." He said. 

John looked up. "What?" 

"Coming here. Seeing them. I think it was a mistake." Mycroft said as John's face fell. "I wanted you to meet my family because, well, one day I plan on making you my husband, so they'll be your family too. I should have warned you. They are a bit cold. Hypercritical. This won't be easy." 

John squeezed his hand and looked him in the eyes. "I love you. It's not easy meeting anyone's parents. But really, how bad could it be? " 

\-----

"I just don't see why you're together. What are you bringing to the family, John?" Mrs Holmes asked. 

"Mummy." Mycroft said. 

"No. I don't understand. He isn't of any distinction, and he can't bear children. What's the use of this relationship?" She added. 

"I love him, mummy." Mycroft said angrily. 

John sat completely gobsmacked across the table from her. He had no idea what to say. This woman...this FAMILY was dreadful! Both parents were cruel, and John didn't know how much more he could take. 

"That's all well and good for Disney characters, Mycroft, but we're looking at assets here." Father scolded. 

"Is it the Holmes name you're after, boy? I know you used to cling to Sherlock, rest his-" Mrs Holmes began. 

That was it. That was fucking it. John was done. He stood and put down his napkin. 

"I make him happy. I made Sherlock happy. That's what I do. That's what I bring to the table. And if that's not enough for you I'm not sure anything can be done. Mycroft, let's go." John said, turning and walking back to their room. 

He heard Mycroft arguing behind him but kept on his path and had their things repacked and out to the car before Mycroft caught up with him. 

"I'm sorry, John." Mycroft said, taking the shorter man in his arms. 

John stomped his foot and Mycroft pulled back. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for. This people are hideous! They don't give a damn about you, you're livestock to them! They want grandchildren and capital! Jesus, I can't believe I'm yelling. Let's leave." John said pulling away and getting into the car. 

Mycroft got into the driver's seat and turned the car on. The ride home was long and unnaturally quiet. Mycroft gripped the wheel fiercely and wondered why he'd thought it was a good plan to bring John in the first place. 

When they got home John called up their favorite curry place and ordered dinner for them. He put away his things and poured Mycroft a scotch. Mycroft was in the study typing away on his laptop as John walked in. John set the drink next to him and leaned against the wall. 

"I ordered curry, and the naan you like." He said calmly. 

Mycroft didn't look up. John stepped towards him and put a hand on his shoulder, but got no response. He started to walk away but Mycroft stood to stop him. 

"Thank you for...my parents are still upset that I'm gay." He said suddenly. "As far as they're concerned I should just 'get over it' and settle down." 

"Well, that's a romantic thought." John said grimly. 

"The idea that happiness and marriage should go in hand is a fairly new one." Mycroft said. 

"So it's okay for them to prevent your happiness? That's ridiculous." John replied, shaking his head unbelieving. 

"It's how they think. It's how...it's how I used to think." Mycroft admitted. 

John looked at him sadly. "Oh, Mycroft. Bloody hell, that's horrible." 

He wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist and looked up at him smiling. "Sorry I ruined your chances of making your parents proud. Me with my height, penis, and ideas about LOVE. Bloody bohemian if you ask me." 

Mycroft laughed and let a few tears roll down his cheeks. John got up on tiptoe and kissed them away. Mycroft took his mouth and licked into it greedily. John moaned and pulled him closer. Mycroft bit at John's bottom lip and dug his fingers into his back. The doorbell rang. Fucking doorbell. Fucking delivery. Fucking cockblocking curry. 

John drew back and jogged to the front door to pay for the food. Mycroft drank his scotch and walked to the sitting room where John was unpacking the steaming boxes. They smelled fantastic, and Mycroft suddenly remembered they hadn't eaten any of their dinner. 

"Well, come on, even bohemians have to eat." John teased. 

Mycroft chuckled and sat opposite him, grabbing one of the boxes and eating with the cheap plastic fork stuck in it. He wasn't sure he'd ever been that hungry in his life. John grinned at him and ripped off a piece of naan. They ate quietly for some time before either spoke. 

"You frighten me, John." Mycroft said quietly. "You are the kind of strong that has no qualms rocking the boat. I am wrought with cowardice. How did you ever come to be mine?" 

"You made the mistake of kissing me back." John said, smiling. 

"Must have been the adrenaline." Mycroft said with a smirk. 

\-----

Later that night, after John had pulled Mycroft away from the study again they were laying against each other in front of the fire. Yann Tiersen's Bagatelle was playing in the background, and both had drank a bit too much scotch. Mycroft stared at John, golden in the firelight, like he wasn't quite real. 

John reached forward and ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair. Mycroft pulled his face closer and kissed him hard. John groaned and opened his mouth to let Mycroft suck on his tongue. Mycroft gripped his hip and wrapped one leg around him. Their clothed erections rubbed together and John lost all sense of time and space. 

The next thing he knew he was walking, no, stumbling to the bed. Mycroft was giggling behind him. He flopped down on the mattress and sighed. Mycroft climbed atop him and kissed greedily at his neck. 

"How do bohemians make love, love?" John asked. 

Mycroft giggled, what a wonderful sound, and shook his head. "No idea." 

John pulled him down and began unbuttoning his shirt. Mycroft slipped off the offending garment and unzipped his trousers. John pulled them and his pants off and removed his own clothes. 

"I reckon I'm too drunk to do much of anything." John said, wrapping a leg around Mycroft and rutting up against him. 

"Just keep doing that!" Mycroft begged, reaching down to encircle both their pricks in a hot fist. 

"Jesus! Holy Mary!" John yelled. 

Mycroft laughed and fucked his own fist harder. 

"Tighter!" John demanded. 

Mycroft obliged and they came seconds later, covered in sweat and exhausted. They lay there in the dark, holding each other for a long time before John spoke. 

"We're gonna wake up gross and hungover." He whispered. 

"Just like any good bohemian." Mycroft replied sleepily.

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing this with the knowledge this is NOT a healthy way to start a relationship. Life doesn't always take the healthy path though, so here it goes. I don't have a beta, so if you see something wrong go ahead and tell me.


End file.
